


The Sunshine in Your Face

by ArielAquarial



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkward Flirting, Barista Dean Winchester, Best friend Balthazar, Fluff, M/M, Oblivious Castiel (Supernatural), Pining, Starbucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24630703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielAquarial/pseuds/ArielAquarial
Summary: Castiel Novak hated Starbucks. It was a soulless corporation that produced overpriced coffee that was mediocre at best, but it was extremely convenient. Every time he pulled up to the drive-thru he knew in the back of his mind that the handful of bills he was about to hand to the barista would have been better spent at a locally-owned coffee shop.That all changed when his alarm didn't go off, forcing him to choose between Starbucks or braving the day uncaffeinated. The choice was a no brainer, leading him to meet a handsome barista who refused to tell him his name...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 21
Kudos: 221





	The Sunshine in Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> My beta suggested that I turn this into a verse and I'm heavily considering it. Let me know if you guys would like to see more of these two little coffee beans.

Castiel Novak hated Starbucks. It was a soulless corporation that produced overpriced coffee that mediocre at best, but it was extremely convenient. Every time he pulled up to the drive-thru and placed an order for a hot coffee with a splash of cream and a single packet of sugar, he knew in the back of his mind that the handful of bills he was about to hand to the barista would have been better spent at a locally-owned coffee shop, or even a doughnut shop. Not lining the pockets of a CEO. He tried his best to stay away, but every once in a while, when his alarm didn’t wake him and he was scrambling to get to work on time, the drive-thru was his only option.

He cursed the Starbucks for being only 2 blocks from the office and so easily accessible.

When his alarm went off this particular morning he whacked it, as usual, sending it straight to snooze. Except, it _hadn't_ gone to snooze. His clumsy hand had overshot the snooze button and shut the alarm off altogether. He woke up again thirty minutes later, groggy and more than a little confused, only to have the last bit of sleep forced away by a spike of anxiety straight through his belly. Work started in less than thirty minutes.

His morning shower flew out the window, and even his usual breakfast of egg whites on toast had to be skipped. Cas slid into his slacks and t-shirt, pulled his wrinkled white button-down out of the dryer, and only spent a few seconds swishing mouthwash around his mouth before bolting through the door and to his car.

Once the car door was shut behind him, he checked the dash and noted the time with dismay. He only had fifteen minutes to get to work, and it took at least ten to go straight there. There was no way he was going to be able to stop by the doughnut shop and grab his usual hot coffee without being late.

As much as it pained him to admit, he couldn’t get through the day without a cup of coffee. He envied the coworkers that didn’t need it to function and marveled at their inner strength, but for him, that wasn’t in the cards. He briefly contemplated taking a trip to the breakroom after he clocked in and grabbing a cup from the communal coffee pot, but there was no way he was in the mood to insult his taste buds with that sludge. Which meant he only had one option: the Starbucks drive-thru. With an annoyed grumble, he backed out of his driveway and tried to remember how to order a simple coffee.

His annoyed grumbling lasted the entire drive, during which insult after insult directed toward their idiotic sizing system fell from his lips. Thankfully, there were only two cars in front of him so it was only a moment before he placed an order into the speaker, with a perky sounding woman parroting it back to him along with the price. He pulled up to the window a minute later and started digging through the pile of things thrown on the passenger seat in his haste to get onto the road, desperately searching for his wallet before the woman giving him his coffee opened the window and had to wait for him.

He heard the little window open just as his hand found the smooth black leather of his wallet, tangled within the sleeve of his dress shirt.

“Hello, sir, $2.95 is your total.”

That was _not_ the voice of a perky young woman. He fumbled with his wallet, dropping it into his lap as his head shot up to get a look at the person that smooth voice came from. A man leaned out of the window, muscular forearms resting on the ledge with his fingers clasped together. He stared down at Cas from his vantage point, stunning green eyes zeroed in on his dumbstruck face. Medium-brown hair stuck up from within his green visor, the siren logo showing proudly from the center. The strands seemed to glow as the sun hit them just right, giving the freckled man an almost ethereal look. 

“$2.95,” he repeated.

“Yes, of course,” he muttered to himself, coming back to reality and realizing that he’d been staring at the attractive man for a few moments too many. He picked his wallet out of his lap and opened it, his brain still too slow to function. Debit card? Credit card? Cash? He fumbled through the selection process, eventually pulling out a five-dollar bill, knowing that he had an emergency Starbucks gift card somewhere in there but unwilling to take more time to find out.

He handed it to the man, speechless, and waited for him to make change. When he turned back to Cas and gave him a nice customer service smile, Cas finally snapped out of it, responding with a quirk of his lips. _Small talk_ , his brain prompted. It was the least he could do, and any chance to hear that smooth voice directed at him again was a good one. “The weather is wonderful, isn’t it?”

The man’s brow creased, and he immediately felt like an idiot. That feeling rolled through him until the man stuck his head out of the window and tilted it towards the sky, the sunshine lighting his face and turning his skin golden. Castiel couldn’t help but stare. “Huh. I guess it is…” He shimmied back into the window and gave Cas a beautiful smile, looking him over before handing him his change. “I’ve been here since before the sun was up, so I hadn’t noticed. Thanks, man.”

Oh God, he was beautiful. His heart fluttered in his chest for the first time in a while, begging him to talk to the man, ask him out, get his number, try to—

“Sir?”

Once again, Cas sprang back to reality only to find that the man was trying to hand him his coffee, arm outstretched towards his car. He flushed immediately and took the coffee, taking care not to touch the man’s hand as he did. He was probably getting put on some kind of Starbucks watch list as it is, and he didn’t want to make things worse. “Thank you.”

The man just smiled softly at him, gave him a simple “Have a nice day,” and let the window close behind him. Cas had to physically force himself to accelerate out of the drive-thru and continue on to work.

If Balthazar was with him, he would point out that it was just like Castiel to make an idiot of himself in front of one of the most attractive people he’s seen in a long time. The barista was so out of his league it was laughable. He considered never going back and saving himself the embarrassment of showing his face again, but he almost laughed at the thought. Of _course_ he was going back. In fact, his usual doughnut shop would have to make do without him, because he was about to make a habit of using that drive-thru for a while. In fact, he had a stack of Starbucks gift cards lying around somewhere, he just had to find them all. He silently thanked every coworker and boss who gifted him the useless pieces of plastic over the years.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

The next morning, he slipped five gift cards into his glove compartment before he left. All of the cards ranged from between $5 and $25, adding up to nearly $70. He hadn’t even realized he was holding onto so much hidden money. He felt better about his decision to start using them, reasoning that it would be a waste since the money had already been spent. Taking a deep breath, he pulled one car space forward and placed his order. Then, he waited for his turn at the window.

As his car inched forward, he thought of the many things he was hoping to accomplish with this trip. First and foremost, he didn’t want to look like such an idiot in front of the attractive barista. Second, he was going to do a better job of engaging in small talk. Last, he was desperate to get the man’s name so he no longer had to refer to him as ‘attractive barista’ in his mind.

Disappointment flooded his system when the wrong brunette opened the window and gave him his total. When the woman turned away to scan the card, he craned his neck to get a better look inside the small coffee shop. He was easy to spot in the back, working coffee beans through the grinder and laughing with his coworkers.

Cas hadn’t known it was possible, but without his customer service façade, he was even more attractive. It was his carefree attitude as he interacted with his coworkers, he realized. When Cas was at the office it was all business. He never talked with his coworkers like that, and they _never_ joked. The barista looked so happy, and Cas envied him. He wished he could be so careless and _alive,_ but he was a man of routine and everyday he woke up to have the same breakfast, went to work in the same two suits and ties, and did the same boring repetitive work crunching numbers and approving budgets.

Against all odds, Cas’s pathetic little crush grew. He was in so much trouble.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

By the fifth day of his new Starbucks habit, he was beginning to feel guilty for not supporting his usual doughnut shop, so he set his alarm fifteen minutes early and pulled into the parking lot of Missi’s Doughnuts. Castiel had been going to Missouri’s shop since he was a kid waddling in after his mom. Back in the day, she used to sneak him doughnut holes that he would chipmunk in his cheeks and wait until his mom was distracted before swallowing them almost whole. Still to this day, more than twenty years later, she stashes a few doughnut holes in the bag for him.

The line took a few minutes to move, but the moment he was in front of the register, his eye caught the ham and cheese croissant and his mouth immediately watered. He pointed at it through the glass and glanced up at Missouri. “That one, please.”

Missouri narrowed her eyes at him, brushing her curls behind her ear. “Welcome back, honey.”

He glanced to his feet, guilt flooding his system. “Hello, ma’am.”

She made no move to slide the case open and give him what he wanted. “It’s been a while. Surely you’ve not been getting your breakfast somewhere else.”

“No, ma’am.”

She harrumphed. “If you’re eatin’ cereal at home, I’ll box your ears.”

He hid his laugh with a small cough. “No, ma’am.”

“And you know how I feel about your egg whites on toast. You need a muffin, son.”

“I’ve been sleeping in and eating an early lunch.” It was a half truth, at best. His coffee usually held him over until around 10:30 am then he’d eat his packed lunch. There was no way he’d tell her that he sometimes added a pastry to his Starbucks order.

She squinted once more before moving to grab his croissant. “I’ve been telling you for years, honey… breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“You’re right, ma’am.”

“Of course, I’m right,” she grumbled at him, bagging his croissant. “You’ll be having your coffee too.”

It wasn’t a question, so he just nodded and watched her pour him a cup and add a splash of cream. He was planning on swinging by the Starbucks on his way to work, but Missouri’s coffee was ten times better at half the price. He supposed that just this once, he could skip the drive-thru. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You know the total.”

He fought back the ‘Yes, ma’am’ that was on the tip of his tongue and paid the woman before shoving his change into the tip jar. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You better be,” she warned, handing him his coffee. “And you better bring that man around soon, too.”

“There’s no man,” he grumbled, taking a sip of coffee. God, it was good. He couldn’t believe he stayed away for so long.

She just cocked an eyebrow. “I wasn’t born yesterday, honey. A new sweetheart is the only thing that would keep you from visiting your Auntie Missouri.”

He held the steaming cup up in a toast. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

As he turned to leave, she stopped with a soft hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about that boy, ya hear me? Consider it one of my ‘educated guesses.’”

Cas nodded and left, doing his best to ignore the comment. He’d stopped questioning the woman and her future predictions long ago, but he wasn’t going to base his decisions on it either. With new resolve, he was determined to get up earlier so he could go to both stores the next morning.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Despite going to the Starbucks for almost a week straight, that first day had been the only time that the green-eyed barista had been at the window to hand him his order. Sure, he’d seen him bustling around in the back, but he was starting to think he’d imagined the warm eyes and freckled skin.

Just like he promised himself, he went to Missouri’s first, grabbing an old fashioned doughnut and coffee for himself—and enduring her knowing smiles—before heading to Starbucks. At first, he considered ordering himself a pastry and skipping the mediocre coffee altogether, but the only food he liked from Starbucks was their peanut butter cookies, and he wouldn’t sit in the drive-thru for a single cookie, especially not this early in the morning. He also considered ordering something simple like oatmeal, but his waistline didn’t need the second breakfast.

The solution, when it finally came to him, was simple. Pulling out of the drive and turning towards work, he gave his friend a call, launching immediately into his question before Balthazar could even say hello. “I’m going to Starbucks before work, would you like anything?”

Balthazar’s silence lasted a beat too long on the other end of the line. “Since when do you go to Starbucks? I _know_ Missouri’s didn’t close… the community would riot. In fact, you’d be on the front lines of the march.”

“I’m trying to work my way through my stack of gift cards and thought you might want something as well,” he lied, hoping Balthazar wouldn’t question the free drink he was offering. In retrospect, he should have known better.

“Why don’t you just regift them?”

He pursed his lips. “So you _don’t_ want free coffee?”

“I didn’t say that. I was only saying that you didn’t need to force yourself to buy Starbucks just because the boss would rather give out Starbucks gift cards than raises. If I were you, I’d regift them to your lovely secretary.”

“I don’t want to perpetuate the behavior.” He cringed at his own excuse. Giving them to Meg actually wasn’t a bad idea, but without the gift cards, he wouldn’t have an excuse to see the man at the drive-thru.

His friend just scoffed. “You can always pass a few my way. I know you’re a bit of a snob, but I don’t mind their coffee.”

Cas snorted loudly at the suggestion that Balthazar was _anything_ but a snob. “Unfortunately, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll see you at the office—”

“Grande cold foam cold brew.”

He smiled to himself. “Was that so hard?”

“What’s Missouri going to think about your choice of coffee?” he shot back.

“I’m still going to Missouri’s.”

“So you’re getting coffee at Missouri's and Starbucks? I shouldn’t have to tell you that overconsumption of caffeine—”

“You have no right to lecture me about overconsumption of coffee. I know for a fact that you have at least two cups before noon.”

“I’m hurt, Cassie. I’ll have you know I only drink three before the clock strikes twelve.”

“You say ‘ _only’_ as if three isn’t a lot.”

“You should see how much coffee Naomi sucks down. It's astounding. I wouldn’t be surprised if she adds in a few splashes of a different brown liquid...”

Castiel believed it. “I need to let you go. I’m almost there.”

“Don’t forget my cold foam—” He hung up, not letting his friend finish the sentence.

This morning, the queue was longer than normal, but as long as he wasn’t stuck in the drive-thru for ten minutes, he’d be fine.

As usual, the voice taking his order at the screen wasn’t the smooth voice of the green-eyed man, but high and perky as he placed the order for Balthazar’s cold brew. Soon, it was his turn to pull up to the window. He took a moment to dig through his glove compartment to grab a card, and—

“That’ll be $4.15.”

Cas straightened his back, giving up on deciding which card to use, and looked up to the smiling face of the barista. His eyes were just as green and vibrant, and his lovely freckles stood out against his tan skin. “Hello.”

“Hey, man.” The man answered back, his friendly smile sliding into a soft smirk. “How ya doing?”

“I’m well,” he answered, reaching again to grab whichever card was on top. “$4.15?” he repeated back in an attempt to draw out the interaction.

“Yeah.”

He turned to him and handed the man his card, getting a good look at his nametag in the process. “Hannah?”

It was only when the man answered back with “Huh?” that he realized he had said it out loud.

“Your nametag.”

He glanced down at his chest, reading the name printed on the shining plastic. “Oh, yeah. This isn’t my nametag.”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

The man whose name _wasn’t_ Hannah offered him a wide smile, holding eye contact for a moment before taking the bill. He got his change back a second later, brushing the man’s warm hand momentarily as he took it from him. “Your drink will be ready in a moment.”

“So, if you’re name isn’t Hannah, then—”

A hand appeared on the man’s arm, turning him bodily away from Cas and drawing his attention elsewhere. A muttered conversation was had, and a second later not-Hannah turned back to him with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry. Kevin is going to be giving you your drink today.”

And just like that, he was gone, a smiling teentaking his place. Kenin's nametag said Anna, and Cas was left even more confused.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Every time Cas went through the drive-thru and the man was there, which was becoming more and more often, his nametag said something different. Charlie, Hannah, Gabriel, Dean, and even one that said Garth. He was probably the only one who noticed. How many times did someone care what an employee’s name tag said in any given store? He went to the same grocery store once a week, and while he recognized all of the employees and even engaged in a bit of small talk, he’s never once cared enough to find out what their names were.

This time was different, though.

“Why do you have a different name tag every day?” he asked, blunt as ever. Balthazar constantly pleaded for him to learn to control his straightforward nature, but that was just how Castiel was. He’s been that way ever since he was a child and it was unlikely to change.

“You noticed that?” His eyes crinkled in a laugh as he looked down at Cas. “The manager puts them in a box each morning and we pick one at random. Gabriel thinks it's funny, and we all just decided to go with it.”

“Interesting boss.”

“He is. Don’t tell corporate, though.” Against all odds, the man winked at him.

Cas blinked owlishly back at him. “What is it, then?”

“What’s what?”

“Your name?”

He smirked, tapping his nametag. “The name’s Bella.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that one is yours either.”

He just smiled back.

“One of these days the name tag will be correct.”

“Maybe.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at the man, and it only seemed to make the man smile wider. “I’ll find out what your name is.”

“I look forward to it.” He reached towards the register, picking up the cold brew that had been placed there by his coworker. “Here you go, sir. Have a nice day.”

If he thought his crush couldn’t get any worse, he was mistaken.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Cas had been going to the same Starbucks for a few weeks, and he was running out of gift cards. The sensible part of his brain was telling him that once he ran out, there was no reason to return. He didn’t like their coffee, and Missouri deserved his continued patronage more than Starbucks did. The other part of his brain would miss the mystery man. He had yet to find out his name, and he was beginning to suspect that he was avoiding choosing his own nametag on purpose.

Every day held different iterations of the same conversation.

“$4.15 for the cold foam cold brew.”

“Here you go.” The gift card exchanged hands. “Charlie?”

“That’s what it says.” Always with a wink and a smile.

The teasing tone never wavered, and Castiel was beginning to suspect the man was actually flirting with him, not out of niceness or duty to customer service, but because he genuinely liked Cas—or perhaps he just liked teasing him. It had taken him a long time to come to that conclusion. Castiel was never one to assume employees were flirting with him, no matter how many times they smiled or said a kind word. It was their _job_ , and he would never make them uncomfortable by ‘making a move’ as his friend Balthazar called it. It would put the worker in an awkward position, and he never wanted to do that to _anyone—_ least of all the attractive man in the drive-thru.

Today, a thought occurred to him. “Would you tell me if it was correct?”

“It depends…” the barista demurred, his lips pursed in thought. “What would you do with my name?”

“I suppose I’ll think of something…” he replied, at a loss. It seems to satisfy the man if his smirk was anything to go by.

He put a few dollars into the tip jar, and as he drove away, he knew he needed help.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Balthazar had been his friend since his first day at the company. Castiel was in finance, and the other was in sales. Their departments typically fought like cats and dogs, but Balthazar had taken one look at him after the morning rundown, loudly announced that his suit was terrible, and then invited him for coffee during their lunch break. He was confused and a little alarmed at the invitation—especially after the declaration that his ill-fitted suit was such an eyesore to the man, but Cas quickly realized that Balthazar hadn’t meant it as a personal attack, simply an observation.

Despite the strange match, they got along better than anyone would have expected. Cas tended to keep Balthazar’s more outrageous behaviors in check, and Balthazar would drag Castiel out of the house and make sure he didn’t become a hermit. Because of this, he was the only one Cas could even dream of asking for advice.

Balthazar sat in silence as he waited for Cas to finish explaining exactly what he needed help with. When he was done, Balthazar continued to stare at him from his place on Cas’s couch. “So, you’ve been getting me coffee for a couple of weeks just so you can visit your boy toy?”

“He’s not my boy toy.”

“What did Missouri say?”

“Missouri didn’t say anything, ok?” he lied, not wanting to put too much stock in her predictions. They were correct often enough, but he couldn't take the chance. “And if you aren’t liking the coffee I've been bringing you, I can stop.”

“Testy,” he muttered, finger tapping his chin. “So, you like this boy?”

“He seems nice.”

“He’s hot.”

“Very.”

Balthazar smiled wolfishly. “This is the Starbucks a few blocks from work, right?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“You’re making this very difficult, Cassie. It’s like you don’t trust me.”

“You don’t need to see him in order to give me advice.”

“I never _said_ I wanted to see him, but I could also make the argument that I very much need to see him in order to help you…”

Castiel sighed, forcing down his annoyance. “I just want to know what I should do.”

“What a delicate situation you have gotten yourself into…”

“Delicate,” he repeated. “I suppose it _is_ a delicate situation.”

“And you _want_ to ask this person out?”

“I am heavily considering it.”

“You say he’s been flirting with you?”

“I believe he has.”

“He must have been flirting pretty hard if it got through your thick skull. Wow. You _never_ notice flirting.”

“I do,” he defended.

“Tell that to the poor men and women that you shoot down when we go to the bar.”

Cas squinted at his friend in confusion. “I don’t get hit on in bars. _You_ do.”

That leads Balthazar to laugh. “Trust me, love. You get hit on all the time. I think they like the scowl.”

“This isn’t helping. I just want to know if I should ask him out or not.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes, but the teasing seemed to be over. “It’s a hard question to answer. These people are being paid to be nice to you, so it’s hard to tell whether or not it’s part of them just being good employees or if they genuinely are attracted to you. As a rule, I don’t ask out anyone who is getting paid to talk to me.”

Cas stared at him, lips parted in surprise. “I’ve seen you flirt with servers, co-workers, bartenders, pretty much anyone who smiles at you. You flirt with _everyone_ who is being paid to talk to you.”

“Flirting is one thing, love. Asking out is another thing altogether. I’ve never once asked any of them on a date.”

His heart dropped. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t do it.”

“It's hard to say. Have you been flirting back?”

Cas stayed silent, staring at his friend with a blank face.

“Of course you haven’t. Why would I even ask? Do you even _know_ how to flirt?”

“I don’t like ‘putting on a show.’”

“If you think flirting is just putting on a show, then you’re worse off than I thought.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Fine, you want my advice? Here is my advice: don’t ask him out.”

Cas’s heart dropped. Sure, he had considered that would be the answer, but it didn’t make him any less disappointed. “Alright. I won’t ask him out.”

“Good.” He leaned forward and gave Cas’s knee a squeeze. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Flirt your awkward little heart out. Let him know _subtly_ that you’re interested. If he likes you, he’ll ask you out.”

“I don’t know how to flirt.”

“Oh god.” Balthazar rolled his eyes so hard Cas thought they’d get stuck. “Yes you do. Remember Inias? You flirted with him constantly!”

“I was not flirting with him,” Cas defended. “We engaged in banter.”

“Yes, and he had a massive crush on you because of it. That was flirting, my dear. You were _flirting_ with that poor boy, in your own little way.”

“Then why didn’t he ask me out?”

“Perhaps it was because you were his boss? He was waiting for you to ask him.” Balthazar shook his head in exasperation. “For someone so smart, you can be awfully dense. Have you engaged in this _banter_ with your boy?”

“He’s not my boy…” Cas insisted.

“Semantics. So, yes or no to the flirting?”

“We may have bantered a little,” he admitted, thinking back to their conversations about his name tag. He refused to believe that their talks were very flirtatious. The winks and smiles, though? Perhaps. It was just so hard to believe that a man as handsome as him would flirt with a lowly financial advisor like Cas.

“Does he smile at you?”

“He smiles at everyone.”

“Does he touch your hand when he gives you your coffee?”

“Once that I remember, but it was probably an accident.”

“The fact that you remember him touching you says a lot, Cassie. Hm… Does he talk to you about things other than the weather?”

“Occasionally.”

“It sounds like he might like you.”

“He could be doing those things for all his customers.”

“Lord, Cassie. What do you want me to tell you? He might be flirting, he might not.”

“This was useless.” Cas closed his eyes and leaned into the couch. “I’ll never know.”

“There’s only one solution.”

He peaked an eye open to look at his friend. “What?”

“I’ll meet you at Missouri’s tomorrow morning and you can take me through the drive-through.”

Vision’s of Balthazar embarrassing him flooded his head. He turned the full force of his glare onto his friend. “No.”

“Oh, come on. I just want to watch you two.”

“Absolutely not.”

“If I can watch, I can tell you if he’s flirting or not.”

Cas paused to consider it, but ultimately shook his head. “I don’t trust you.”

Balthazar gasped and placed his hand delicately over his heart. “Ouch. You wound me.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Cassie, please. I won’t do anything, scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

Balthazar barreled on, ignoring Cas. “I’ll sit in the back seat and not say a word. You just order your coffee and I’ll observe the interaction. My lips will stay firmly shut the whole time.”

He opened his mouth to argue but stopped short. It could work. If Balthazar sat in the back seat, and he kept his big mouth sealed, it was very likely that the barista wouldn’t know anyone was in the car with him. “Actually…”

Balthazar smiled in triumph. “I’ll be a very good boy…”

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Castiel regretted the decision the moment his alarm woke him, but it was too late. In the light of day, the idea that Balthazar should observe his interaction and then give him advice was laughable. Unfortunately, the damage had been done, and unless he wanted to skip going to Missouri’s and miss his morning coffee, he’d have to gather his courage and meet his friend at the doughnut shop.

Balthazar was on time, for once, leaning against the counter and giving Missouri a winning smile as she bagged his muffin.

At the tinkle of the overhead bell, Balthazar glanced over and gave him a bright smile. “Morning, sunshine!”

Immediately, Cas didn’t trust him. There had been many times at the beginning of their friendship where he was lulled into a false sense of security only to be dragged to a strip club, wine tasting, or other—equally bothersome—tasks. The fact that Balthazar was giving him that same feeling on the morning of such an important day was even more worrying. “Goodmorning.”

Balthazar watched as Cas moved to stand beside him. “It’s a wonderful morning for some coffee, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he answered warily.

“I was just telling our lovely friend here about our plan.”

Cas glanced up at her and she watched him back, unimpressed. “What’s this I hear about you getting coffee elsewhere?”

He turned to look at Balthazar and contemplated kicking his shin behind the counter. “I’ve been using up some gift cards.”

She harrumphed and frowned at him. “I can tell when you’re not telling the whole truth, young man.”

“I have a _lot_ of gift cards,” he insisted. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, just not the whole truth.

Her frown finally broke, revealing a smile. “It’s fine, honey. We all do crazy things for love.”

“Oh my God…” he muttered, hand rubbing down his face. He knew he was going to regret his decision, and it was working out to be worse than he imagined. “I’m not in love.”

“Yet,” Balthazar cut in.

“Give it time, honey,” Missouri added.

He turned to the display in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “I’d like a blueberry muffin and a coffee, please.”

“Of course.” She grabbed the tongs and bagged his muffin before turning to pour him a to-go cup of coffee. “My pastries are much better than the frozen stuff that Starbucks sells, and don’t you forget it.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Balthazar takes a large bite out of his breakfast. “Their scones aren’t bad, but—”

Missouri silenced him with a glare. “Like I said, mine are better. Now, why don’t you go and get your boy.”

“He’s not my boy,” he muttered softly, but decided against arguing. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Smartly, Balthazar waited until they were outside to turn to him with a smirk. “ _Ma’am_?”

Cas got into the car, watching his friend through his side mirror as he got into the back, settling nicely behind the passenger seat. “I’ve been coming here since I was four. I’ve always called her ma’am.”

“That’s downright adorable.”

Too soon he was driving up to the drive-thru and his heartbeat quickened with anticipation. Thankfully, Balthazar sat quietly in the back, not a peep coming from his lips as Cas made his order. The silence lasted while they waited their turn until finally, Cas was pulling up to the window. For once, Cas was hoping it wouldn’t be his barista at the window, that it would be the peppy brunette or the kind redhead, but as he turned to stare through the glass, the man stared back.

The window slid open with a squeak, and with a smile on his face, he leaned out the window. “Hey, there.”

“Hello.” He glanced at the man’s chest. “Charlie again?”

He grinned widely. “That’s what it says.”

“I know for a fact it’s not Charlie. Besides, you don’t look like a Charlie,” Cas replied, pulling a green card out of his center console and handing it to the man.

“I don’t know, I could be a Charlie.”

Cas stared at him, head tilted and assessing as he slipped the plastic through the register slot. “Definitely not a Charlie.”

He shrugged and passed Cas his card back, his finger ghosting along Cas’s palm. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I could be a Bruce, though.” His voice dropped an octave and gained a rasp. “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain.”

Cas watched him in confusion.

“You know… Bruce Wayne?” At Cas’s continued stare, he paused, his smile dropping a little. “Batman. You’ve seen The Dark Knight, right?”

Castiel suddenly felt like he’d messed up. “I don’t believe I have.”

“Oh man, that’s…” he bit his lip and looked away with a chuckle. “You gotta watch it, ok? Promise me. Batman is the coolest.”

There wasn’t a chance _any_ man could look at that face and _not_ agree. “I will.”

He sighed in relief, finally reaching to his elbow and handing Cas the cold brew. “Let me know when you do, alright? There’ll be a quiz.”

He felt the corner of his mouth tick up in amusement. “Of course. Shall I take notes?”

The barista chuckled, pink tinting his freckled cheeks. “Sure. Bring a number two pencil, yeah?”

With a bright smile, the man retreated through the window and it closed between them. Shaking himself out of it, he put the coffee into his drink holder and pulled forward.

“Wow.”

Castiel almost jumped in surprise as he was suddenly reminded of his friend’s presence. He covered it by reaching behind him, coffee in hand. “Just take it.”

“Just wow. That was almost painful to watch.”

His heart dropped. It seemed like he had his answer, then. Cas thought things had gone as well as they usually did, but Balthazar must have seen the interaction for what it was. Hands back on the steering wheel, he glared at the road.

“I mean, _really_ …”

“Stop.”

“No way, this is just too good.”

“I really don’t want to hear it.”

“You don’t want to hear it? I just sat through the sappiest thing I’ve seen in my entire life, so I reserve the right to comment on it.”

Wait, sappy? “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know you had it in you, love. That was some grade-A flirting.”

He met his friend's eye in the rearview mirror. “Really?”

“Really. I think it gave me a cavity.”

“I was flirting, then,” he wondered aloud.

Balthazar snorted. “Yes, Cassie. You were flirting. Quite well, actually.”

Cas gripped the steering wheel even harder. “Oh.”

“Yes, _oh._ If that’s what you consider banter, no wonder poor Inias was always such a mess around you!”

“He was shy.”

“No, he was _not_!” his friend insisted. “Dear Lord… How you managed to get a guy that looks like _that_ to flirt with you, I’ll never know.”

It took a moment for the words to wash over him. “He was flirting back?”

“Come on. _‘Promise me you’ll watch Batman. There will be a test.’_ The smiling, the laughing. Yes, he was flirting. Pretty hard, too. Is this how it always is?”

“I believe it is.”

“Then do something about it before the poor boy thinks you’re not interested.”

Cas was silent the rest of the ride, only clearing his throat as they both got out of the car and began the walk into their building. “So, you think I should ask him out?”

“No. I wasn’t kidding when I said it wasn’t a good idea to ask out anyone working in customer service, and I meant it. I think you should encourage that man to do it himself. And for the love of God, get his real name somehow.”

Castiel smiled all the way up to his office.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Breaking out of his routine was difficult, but he hoped that in the end, it would be worth it. It was a gamble, really. He had no way of knowing if the man would be working on a Saturday morning. Chances were he would walk in and the man would be nowhere in sight, and if that were the case, he’d have to come up with a different plan. One he could enact during the sixty seconds of interaction time they had while the baristas got his drink ready.

Despite having been to Starbucks nearly every day for a month, he had never been inside. The wall of coffee-scented air that hit him as he walked through the doors had him closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Cas let out a little sigh of pleasure and joined the short queue, glancing around the large coffee shop as discreetly as he could.

Immediately, he saw him at the register, smiling sweetly at a mother and her son. He wanted to both praise and curse his luck because although he was glad the man was there, he was suddenly regretting turning down Balthazar's offer to be there as emotional support. Every word he had rehearsed over and over in preparation of meeting him flew from his mind, and he could only stare at the handsome face of the mystery barista as he inched closer and closer to the register.

When he was only one person away from the register, the barista glanced behind his customer and locked eyes with him. His polite smile slipped briefly, lips staying parted in the same dumb expression Cas was wearing. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his lips curved up in a genuine smile. Wide with teeth and crinkled eyes. He jumped back into serving the man in front of Cas, writing his order on the paper cup and giving the man his total. When he was gone, it was finally Cas’s turn.

He turned away from Cas to face his coworker, taking the sunshine of his smile with him. “Charlie, can you help with the line? I have my break in a minute.”

A redhead nodded and stood behind the register beside him, typing into the monitor before turning to the short line of people. “I’ll take you all over here, please.”

The line shifted and he was alone with the man.

“I knew your name wasn’t Charlie...”

He laughed aloud at that. “No, it isn’t.”

Cas couldn’t help but smile back. “So, is it—” he glanced at the man’s chest, only to have his hand whip up to cover it. He looked up askance and was met with a red-faced barista. They stared at each other, the man wide-eyed with shock while Castiel’s head tilted in confusion before he cleared his throat. “I take it you’re wearing the correct name tag?”

He nodded, gripping the plastic even tighter.

“And you don’t want me to see it?”

“No, it’s not that, I—” he let out a long sigh and his shoulders drooped. Green eyes met blue as he dropped his hand, revealing his name tag. “I was having fun with it, and I didn’t want it to end…”

“Then I won't look.” Cas let his eyes linger on the man’s face, forcing his eyes away from the name displayed on his chest. He didn’t know what to say. God, he wished Balthazar was there to tell him what to do, wished that he understood people better so he could say the right thing. Instead, he glanced at the wall behind the man and cleared his throat in order to say the first thing that came to his mind. “I’ll have a cold foam cold brew.”

Charlie perked up from beside him. “Is this drive-thru cold brew guy?”

The barista’s eyes widened. “No, Charles.”

She glanced at him, eyes roving up and down his body as she wrote a woman’s order on her cup. “Are you sure? You said he had blue eyes and bed head, and this guy—”

“Can I take your order?” he nearly shouted, cutting Charlie off.

Despite already having given him his drink order, he did it again. “Cold foam cold brew.”

He scribbled a set of letters onto the cup, face flushed pink, and glanced up to him. “Name for the order?”

Cas almost pointed out the hypocrisy in his question but refrained. “Castiel.”

The barista squinted at him for a moment before scribbling down a few letters. Through the plastic, he could see the letters CAS. “Alright, that’ll be $4.15”

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed the man his last gift card. “Drive-thru guy?”

The barista mumbled something under his breath before scanning his card. “I didn’t know your name, ok?”

“You talk about me?”

Cas hadn’t known it was possible, but his face turned even redder. “I talk about all my regulars.”

Charlie snorted from beside him, gaining the attention of both of them.

“Charlie, mind your own business.” He turned back to Cas. “Just ignore her, she was a pity hire.”

He nodded, glancing between Charlie’s glaring face and the barista’s light blush. “Right. Well, I suppose me being here is out of the ordinary.”

“Yeah, he’s been trading me drive-thru duty for a few weeks just so he could—"

“Do you want a receipt?” he asked loudly, easily drowning out his coworker's voice.

“No, thank you.”

“Ok, please step over here, then.” He turned away from his smirking coworker and gestured to the other counter.

Cas walked to the pick-up counter on wobbly knees and watched the barista get started on his drink. Watching him work was fascinating, although he was alarmed by the pumps of sugar that were going in his drink. He placed the cup on the counter with a straw and stepped back. Hesitantly, he grabbed the drink and took a sip. It was less sweet than he assumed it would be, and altogether not bad, but still, nothing compared to Missouri’s coffee. He took another sip anyway, eying the barista. “Thank you.”

They stood there for a moment longer, watching each other awkwardly.

“You really haven't looked, have you?”

Cas squinted in confusion. “Pardon?”

“Look at it.”

He glanced around. “At what?”

“My name tag. Look at it.”

His heart sped up in his chest at the commanding tone in the man’s voice and the stubborn set to his shoulders. He was dead serious, Castiel realized. The beautiful man in front of him finally wanted to reveal his name, and Cas was almost too nervous to look. Despite his mental waffling, his eye slowly drifted down, past his cupid’s bow lips and stubbled chin, past the broad shoulders, and finally, to the tag clipped to the green apron.

“Dean…” he breathed out in wonder. Castiel’s eyes rose to meet his. “Hello, Dean.”

The barista—no, Dean—smiled toothily. “Hey.”

“So…” Dean began slowly, his fingers tapping against the counter. “I have a fifteen-minute break. Were you planning on drinking that here?”

He hadn’t, in fact, planned to drink it there. “Yes, I was.”

“Can I join you?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Dean shook his head at him. “I like the way you talk.”

Cas could feel his blush warming his face. “Thank you. I’ll— uh, grab one of the tables.”

He could feel the heat of Dean’s stare on his back as he walked to an empty wooden table and sat, fighting the urge to hit his head on the surface repeatedly. Cas looked over his shoulder to watch as Dean untied his apron and pulled it over his head, knocking his visor so badly askew that he took that off too. He began to walk over, smiling brightly as he caught Cas’s eye and bringing the warmth of the sun with him.


End file.
